


In Toxins Are Truths

by morganasmyths



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, johnlock - Fandom
Genre: Feelings, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, bit o angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 09:01:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9714461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganasmyths/pseuds/morganasmyths
Summary: A ficlet about feelings.I was playing around with writing styles and am pretty proud of how this turned out





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Johnlock fic - I've written other fanfictions before but I'm excited to actually use this creative outlet. I hope whoever reads this enjoys it. It's a very small entry but a little something I wrote and I just want to put it somewhere.  
> Here seems nice.

John Watson had always taken the chemistry between himself and a certain Mr Sherlock Holmes for granted. It was never something that he had intended to act upon, however he had no doubt that both parties were in the knowledge of its existence. I suppose then, he really had very little to worry about when it came to developing feelings for said Mr Sherlock Holmes, and that chemistry seemed much more relevant than ever before.

Sherlock Holmes was a moody man. He constantly lost himself in fits of anger or frustration – he had no time for sadness or pining, that sort of thing was much more on the ‘anguish’ end of the spectrum. Sometimes it felt that Sherlock Holmes’ feelings were little more than that – a spectrum, or perhaps a continuous loop: endearing, but predictable. Predictability in emotion meant that it was easy to dread certain moods – such as this one.

John Watson would like to present to his readers exhibit ‘A’ of said dreaded mood – the Sulk. Now the Sulk is a particularly bad one because it is one in which Sherlock Holmes insists on remaining silent for as long as humanely possible. Whilst it is true that John Watson sometimes questioned the authenticity of Mr Holmes’ species, the silence always became an intolerable sacrifice of sound or small talk that could be filled with better things, such as yelling at the television, that wasn’t so adamant on being such a heavy presence in the atmosphere. It was already tense with chemistry.

Another reason that John Watson didn’t like the silence of the Sulk was because that meant he could not help Sherlock Holmes, and John Watson hated it when he could not help Sherlock Holmes. It was in one of these very Sulks that he stumbled upon this revelation of feelings aforementioned of Mr Holmes. I suppose the lexis of ‘revelation’ isn’t a particular clever one. It wasn’t that poignant at all really. It simply came upon him like the sun graces the tops of the mountains in the early morning, and the stars relish in cool morning breeze. Like the gentleness of light, the fact that he was in love with Sherlock Holmes lifted the atmosphere slightly, and there was slightly less pressure and more room to breathe. Mr Watson remembered sitting in his chair and gazing at said man with a certain adoring fondness that is so hard to misplace, unless one has convinced themselves that it is entirely impossible of the present company (which, regrettably, Mr Holmes had), and therefore these feelings have continued unrequited.

But the revelation had nonetheless lifted the atmosphere, and John Watson was very pleased to even be in the presence of such a man as Sherlock Holmes, and therefore feelings could easily become an irrelevant matter if he could be permitted to spend perhaps the rest of his life in the way that he does so today. John Watson was a calm man who had known a life with horrors and hideousness, and so to be encompassed in a life with such beauty and little need for complications was a blessing that he was grateful for everyday.

Sherlock Holmes did not share this opinion. 

Sherlock Holmes had been in love with John Watson as soon as he had set eyes on him in St. Bartholomew's Hospital. He had spent years denying it, for sociopaths don't feel. It was a self-diagnosis, brought on by the immense pain of his childhood in an automatic self-defence. No child deserved to feel the pain which Sherlock Holmes had, and so he shut himself off from all emotions, disallowing friends or feeling. Often self-diagnosis is mistaken but it always takes a doctor to prove it. 

Sherlock Holmes was in love with John Watson. He loathed the mornings where John's hair was tousled from the sheets and his eyes were hooded with sleep and all he wanted was to gather him up in his arms and tell him how much he adored him. He loathed those mornings, because watching John Watson from a sofa and having to refrain from such an act was agony. 

How wonderfully poignant it is that we get 'venom' from 'Venus', there is such a fine line between love and pain.


End file.
